Undone
by KeaganPate
Summary: Castle & Becket during their moments of truth. Turning points in their relationship, when they realize truths about themselves with each other. Post Season 5
1. Chapter 1

10/16/12 Caskett I [Undone]

"Castle," she whispers breathless from their overwhelming fervor.

"Kate," he responds absentmindedly still kissing her. He had her pinned against the alley wall. The rough bricks were pulling at the fabric of her new work coat – she didn't care. They were on an assignment, recon more or less. They were checking the first warehouse for McClaughnahan and his crew. They had all night to check the assorted warehouses Ryan and Esposito had documented earlier in the day. The goods were never at the first place they looked anyway.

Getting out of the car had been their first step of good intentions. Castle couldn't contain himself. They both rounded the hood of the police cruiser, picking up their stride as they went. The tension peaked when Beckett's fingers grazed the back of Castle's hand. The reaction was instantaneous and carnal. He grabbed her waist like he needed her touch to breathe. He covered her mouth with his as he pulled her abruptly to him.

Her hands were hesitant for only a moment when she finally gripped his lapel, crinkling the fabric.

Castle pushed her against the alley wall then, trying to find purchase enough to allow her body to consume him. For once, she let him pin her down. However, her conscience called her back.

"We need to search the…oh God, Castle." He kissed her neck sending the fire straight down to her thighs. She didn't want to stop – they hadn't seen each other in a few days and the tension had been building ever since Castle left for his five-day book tour. Alternatively, she was consumed with her most recent case, the McClaughnahan one. She and Castle hadn't had time to talk other than about the case (always conferring about the possibilities, she'd come to rely on him as a sounding board). Their drive in the cruiser was the first time they were even able to touch since the week before. Castle jumped into the passenger seat as soon as he got back in town and heard from Beckett.

Now, they couldn't stop. Her hands began to rove under his shirt, unable to keep from touching his warm inviting skin. Castle's body was still locking her into place against the wall, his hands gripping her neck as if she had wanted to get away from his touch, away from his body against hers, away from the heat rising between them showing in the cold air of their breath suddenly clouding their space.

Her knees were beginning to give way from the effort of holding back. She dug her nails into the skin of his back needing to feel more of him and exasperated with knowing that she could not. Not yet at least.

"I missed you," he said smiling through the kiss and finally finding his ability to breathe again.

"I see that." Her grin widened. It's not like she enjoyed getting distracted on the job. In fact, it was absolutely unacceptable to her…on any normal day. Tonight, she wanted to find any excuse to take him home with her. She pulled on his hair to return his lips to hers. He willingly obliged. Her knee curved up rubbing against Castle's proving her insatiable desire. _You aren't getting away from me tonight, Castle_. His groan was needy and insistent. His tongue swept over her bottom lip and dove into her mouth, twisting and curling around hers. Her involuntary moan echoed.

"Have you guys found anything?" Esposito asked over the radio. It was time to get back to work. Castle and Beckett released their lip-lock momentarily as the shame washed over them. _You're on duty, Kate. Keep your pants on. Christ._ She was angry with herself but her desire for the man pressed against her was greater. She looked up, eyes pleading and wanting. Castle released her, resting his hands safely against the wall instead. He was still entrapping her. Every inch of their bodies, that were able, were touching.

"Come on guys, break it up." A security guard finishing his rounds chimed in from down the alleyway. When he was sure they were breaking their embrace, he turned the other way walking back towards the front of the warehouse.

Beckett's cheeks flushed. She smiled briefly, surprised at her breach of character. She was always _with _the bad boy but never getting into trouble. She was a cop after all and more was expected of her. She touched her bottom lip still feeling the tingle of Castle's kiss.

"Detective," Castle stepped away nonchalantly, gesturing widely with his hand for Beckett to step away from the wall, finishing his flourish with a bow from the waist.

She cleared her throat and ran a hand through her hair. No sense in looking guilty when they met up with Ryan and Esposito.

"Zip up, Castle. You're undone." She smirked.

Castle's eyes widened and he flustered around like a nervous schoolboy. He most certainly _was_ undone by the woman in front of him.

"Made ya' look," she chuckled quietly.

"Why Miss Beckett, I expected better from you." Castle was off his game at the moment, his retorts were weak and he knew it – a feat that could only be accomplished by the same woman he had just come undone for.

She stepped closer suddenly, closing the distance between them. The cold air constricted his lungs, or was that her? Their lips were only a hairsbreadth apart and oh, how he wanted to close the distance.

"Is this better?" She reached forward grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck and running her fingers slowly along his hairline. Instead of insistent, she was slow and meticulous with her movements. Her fingers drifted casually down the side of his neck, further down the side of his chest, down his rib cage and finally pausing at his belt line. She never ceased eye contact. His eyes shut resisting the urge to take her in the alley then and there.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, that's better."

"Good." She turned on her heal, straightening her jacket along the way. Back to business.

_You have certainly undone me, Kate._


	2. Chapter 2: Breath Abated

She was no longer overwhelmed with her mother's murder. There was closer, or as close to closure as there could have come from that industrial kitchen, with that blackmail-induced haze of anger. She had killed her mother's killer, she had confronted the man that shot her, and she had threatened the man that put the hit on them both.

The knife sliced through the tomato with sharpened, practiced ease. Kate was cooking again, her mother's recipe. The browning garlic and onions filled the small studio apartment with memories of grass stained jeans and softball gloves that left orange smudge on her hand. Her mother knew that being "one of the boys" was just a phase. Little Kate wouldn't want to play ball in the dirt park for much longer. And she would have been right too…if she wouldn't have been killed condemning Kate to a life of proving herself better than the boys in her police academy and then later, the 12th.

The oven beeped once, signaling only 60 seconds left on the bruschetta. Kate finished the last tomato, the final slice slowed as her thoughts drifted to something new, something more pressing, more consistent now. Rick Castle, a man of flirtatious tendencies and surprising tenderness was never her type. She preferred the dark and brooding kind, the ones that could brood alongside her. She never admitted that to herself but it was as close to the truth as it got.

Castle was like a shiny new penny every day breaking through her world of tarnish and decay. He was her positivity, her ray of fucking sunshine. The thought of losing him in any form of the word caused her chest to tighten. He had been attached to her side for so long she'd come to rely on him for his goodness to shine away the gloom.

The oven went off signaling the bread was sufficiently toasted. It screamed at her but she didn't move. She put down the knife as her shoulders slumped. She pressed her palms onto the cold countertop, steadying herself and subconsciously, her thoughts. She sighed. Castle would be there any minute; she had to get herself together. The oven blared again.

Kate turned on her heel and ripped open the oven door with a single motion. Determined to put on a brave face, she repressed the grip in her stomach. She knew that grip. It had been aching at her for years. Especially now with her and Castle dating. It was worse now…much worse. Absent-mindedly, she grabbed at the pan and immediately seared her finger-tips.

"Ah shit," She murmured. Kate shook her hand out trying to shake away the pain.

The front door shut suddenly, she hadn't even heard it open, as Castle hastily dropped his paper bags of food onto the floor trying desperately to get to her. "What did you do?" His voice was soothing, calming.

Kate hissed through her teeth as Castle gingerly held her burned hand. The pain overtook her hand and pulsed up into her shoulder.

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"It's not nothing."

Castle had the faucet running before Kate could stop him. Their movements were rhythmic and fluid as they weaved and twisted through the kitchen. Finally, the small kitchen pushed them together. Castle trapped her against the back counter to keep her from escaping his care. He had a wet washcloth in his hand, ready to soothe.

"Castle, I'm fine." She was trying desperately to play the role of the strong one, she always did. She didn't need him…right? He proceeded anyway, he always did. He tenderly picked up the hand that was being held protectively against her back. He wrapped the cool cloth around her fingers. Meticulously, he secluded her hand with love she hadn't seen or felt in such a long time, it took her breath away.

There was only the silence between them and the hissing of the cooked bread and skillet of onions. Castle shifted his weight, turning the knob of the stove to "off" and quickly took the skillet from the heat. Then, pressing his body to hers, he reached behind Kate to pick up the towel off the counter to take the pan from the oven below.

Once he returned to face her, Kate had come to a conclusion. The wrench in her stomach was almost unbearable. It was constricting her voice and her breathing. It was too much to keep in any longer. It was too much just to keep quiet.

"I love you, Rick." She whispered it. It was the only manageable thing she could say. Yet, the confession was overwhelming. She stopped breathing. But she hadn't stopped looking into those blue eyes. She waited to exhale but she couldn't until he did something…anything…to justify her words. The tightening in her chest released suddenly for some reason, the truth set her free. Go figure. There was no pain in her hand, no suppression in her stomach, only the fierceness in Castle's eyes. He stopped breathing too.

He hungrily pressed his lips to hers capturing her face in his warm hands. The writer, so fluent with language, retaining a repertoire of words like he was a cowboy in a literary gunfight, was speechless for once. There wasn't a need to speak, for either of them. It was only the truth of her words hanging in the air.

Castle suddenly gripped her hips, picking her up in one motion, Kate wrapped her legs around his waist, never disconnecting. With her wrapped around him, Castle strode into her bedroom, no stopping to press his body against hers on a wall or to lay her on the couch. With single-minded determination, Castle drifted into her bedroom and collapsed them onto the bed. He looked down into her eyes, finally breaking the kiss. The grin on Kate's face melted his questions and snarky comments. He smiled back. He had never been so happy to have his breath taken away.


	3. Chapter 3: All Consuming

There was a knock at his door. It was late and she hadn't called. _Paperwork didn't usually take her this long_, he thought, taking a sip of his whiskey. The worst possible scenarios began to play through the writer's head. She was always impenetrable – never marred by anything. She was steel. But the image of Jerry Tyson with his arm around her throat, bringing her to her knees made him cringe. The whiskey helped push away the pain, the frustration, and the recognition of his inadequacies. It always did.

When he heard the knock, his heart skipped a beat. No one had called, not even to say Kate had been hurt or abducted or anything of the sort. The knock came again, more of a pound. He had heard the pounding rhythm before – the NYPD knock of justice. Castle's stride lengthened. He was too wound up in thought to say a word, not even a complimentary "hold on" or "I'm coming." The door handle was cold against his warm anticipating palm. He gripped it more resolutely than normal. The door swung open revealing the tall frame of Kate Beckett.

There was no hesitation, no words, no introductions, only the craving impact of her body against his. Castle inhaled sharply as their lips connected in haste. Kate's tongue was searching; her hands tightly grasped his hair. Castle held her to him firmly as he shut the door with his foot. His hands roamed her back eagerly hoping to find purchase. In frustration, he pushed her back against the closed door that rattled against their weight.

"Take me to bed, Castle." Beckett breathlessly whispered. Relief flooded her words as if she had wanted to say them for hours. Their lips broke only a hairsbreadth apart. Both of their lips, swollen from passion, broke into a smile.

His sheets were waded at the end of the bed. Pillows littered the floor like they had been tossed, not ripped off the bed in a fit of passion. It was post-round two. Kate's eyes had been closed for an undetermined amount of time. The rise and fall of her back slowed as her breathing too began to subside. She lay on her chest, completely spent. A sheet lay leisurely across the small of her back, cloaking the twitching muscles in her legs.

"I can't lose you again, Kate." Castle had been watching her nose flare every time she exhaled. It was a small shift but one he found sexier than anything she had done with her handcuffs or any scarf.

"You're not going to lose me, Castle." She murmured, eyes still closed.

"I thought…when you didn't call…" He sighed. Kate opened her eyes, concern ridden.

"Rick," she pleaded. She didn't want him to worry. She was a cop, there were going to be dangers, and unknowns, and unforeseen events come up that prevented her from calling. Still, she didn't want him to be in pain.

"You didn't call, Kate. You didn't…" he choked on the last word. Kate turned, reaching her arm out to bring him to her. He complied, folding himself into her, slumping his face into her neck. His arms wrapped tightly around her.

"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." He could hear the smile in her voice but she was reassuring nevertheless. Their bodies twined easily, her leg protectively over his but his arms wrapped securely around her. He breathed her in, inhaling every subtlety about her: the bitter sweat of a day at the precinct, the faint smother glow of perfume she had put on hours ago, and the salt of their bodies entwined after love-making. He softly kissed the bit of skin under his lips. She cooed, holding him tighter.

"Jerry Tyson is not going to get me." Kate continued.

"You don't know that."

"You shot him. He's dead. I was there."

"He has a way of resurrecting himself."

She sighed heavily pulling herself away from him just enough to hold his face between her palms. Her thumbs gently played with the hair by his ears. "He's not coming back, Castle. He can't." Her face dropped. She was serious.

"Kate…" he began.

"No, Castle. He…" She looked away suddenly, gathering her thoughts. "He almost took you away from me twice now. If he comes back and tries again, he won't live long enough to watch me burn his body." The implication was staggering. It was rare to see the protective side of Beckett. She was protective in a cop way, but this was more than that, it was protection over something she loved. He stared at her wanting so badly to kiss her he could feel his fingers clench on her waist. "Hell hath no furry," she smiled wickedly. It was just enough to enrapture him. He closed the gap between them so suddenly Kate squealed unexpectedly. She wrapped her fingers in his hair once again pulling him closer. Their passion was all consuming.


End file.
